


Jailhouse Rock

by LaMariposaRoja



Series: Something Special [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Elvis Presley - Freeform, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Firefighter AU, Firefighter Dean, M/M, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 13:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaMariposaRoja/pseuds/LaMariposaRoja
Summary: Castiel is washing dishes while Dean gets ready for work. At least, he thinks Dean is getting ready for work. What follows is a spontaneous dance session in the kitchen of their shared apartment.





	Jailhouse Rock

**Author's Note:**

> I've recently rediscovered Elvis and was inspired to write this fic. I highly recommend playing the song as you read, I tried pacing it to work with the music and it fits with the overall mood. I hope you like it! 
> 
> (Side note: this piece goes along with the same universe established by my other fic Comfortable. While there is no set sequence of events, I suggest reading that one first if you haven't already.)

                    The low strumming of a guitar sounds twice from the wireless speakers placed behind the laptop sitting atop the kitchen table. Castiel turns around from the sink to find Dean standing in the doorway, dressed in his regular firefighter outfit, except his black t-shirt is obviously absent. The guitar sounds again, along with two ticks of a drum and Dean moves forward, shimmying his shoulders with the bops. Castiel is confused, but a small chuckle betrays his squinted expression as he hears the singer.

                    _The warden threw a party in the county jail. The prison band was there and they began to wail. The band was jumpin’ and the joint began to swing. You should’ve heard those knocked out jailbirds sing!_

“Let’s rock! Everybody let’s rock!” Dean begins to sing along as he sways, stepping into Cas’s space and training his green eyes on blue. Cas leans against the counter edge, crossing his arms and goading his boyfriend on with a sly smirk. Dean had his own matching smile, flashing his white teeth and a wink as he backs up again and continues to jive to the upbeat tune.

                    The computer shouts out the next verse of the song, sending Dean into another funny little synchronization to the music. Castiel giggles at the serious expression on Dean’s face as he dances, shaking his fist when the singer belts out the line about the drummer boy from Illinois going crash, boom, bang. Shaking his head fiercely and twisting the toe of his heavy black boot into the kitchen floor as he hears the one about the whole rhythm section being the Purple Gang.

                    _Let’s rock! Everybody, let’s rock! Everybody in the whole cell block was dancing to the jailhouse rock!_

The beat slows again for the next verse, this time Dean sings along, throwing an arm out dramatically towards Castiel, who still stands by in bemused wonder.

                    “Number forty-seven said to number three, you the cutest jailbird I ever did see. I sure would be delighted with your company, Come and do the jailhouse rock with me!” He grabs Cas’s bicep and drags him forward into his bare chest, guiding his boyfriend’s arms up to take part on the dancefloor. Cas is a little taken aback by the sudden lurch, but quickly adjusts to step in time with his crazy dance partner.

                    The two continue their groove as the three-lined chorus rolls again, rolling right out as the repetition of ‘rock’ fades out, giving the stage to the two-stringed guitar solo.

                    Castiel surprises Dean by singing the next line, his deep voice not as suited for the song as Dean’s or Mr. Presley’s, but he goes for it with just as much confidence. “Sad Sack was sittin’ on a block of stone. Way over in the corner weepin’ all alone. The warden said, ‘Hey buddy, don’t you be no square –‘”

                    “’If you can’t find a partner use a wooden chair!’” Dean enthusiastically chimes in as he extends his leg to kick one of the chairs underneath the kitchen table, causing the laptop to jolt a bit as the table squeaks and jumps away from the abuse. Castiel laughs at the silliness and plunges to the side as Dean guides the jig towards the other side of the room.

                    _Everybody in the whole cell block was dancing to the jailhouse rock!_

_Shifty Henry said to Bugs, “For heaven’s sake no one’s looking, now’s our chance to make a break.” Bugsy turned to Shifty and he said, “Nix, nix! I wanna stick around a while and get my kicks.”_

_Let’s rock! Everybody, let’s rock! Everybody in the whole cell block was dancing to the jailhouse rock!_

The last line of the song repeats itself four more times, each repetition slowly drifting further and further away from the mic. As the speakers fade out, Dean and Cas slowly begin to untangle themselves from one another, laughing loudly to replace the lost melody.

                    “What was that about?” Castiel asks as he holds his stomach in his arms.

                    “Who doesn’t love a little Elvis?” Dean replies with a wink. Castiel chuckles again, not having a retort for that.

                    “Jailhouse Rock? But you’re a fireman, not a cop.”

                    “Yeah, well. Close enough, you know,” Dean’s smile takes on a more goofy look as he tries to remain in control of the situation, he thought the song choice had been quite clever of him, thank you very much!

                    Cas shakes his head in mock disappointment, adding an eyeroll for dramatics. “Knowing you, there’s probably something else going on here. So, what is it? Why is your shirt missing?”

                    Well, shit. Dean didn’t think he was that easy to figure out. But apparently his boyfriend was more intuitive than he thought (of course). He laughs guiltily as he raises a hand to rub behind his neck. “Well, I uh…I was getting ready to head in to work, but then I spilled some stuff on my shirt. It’s all dirty now so I’m gonna have to wash it if I want to look professional, right?”

                    Cas gives him a suspicious look, “Your shirt is always messy. There’s stains all over the thing and you’ve never complained before.” Dean continues to fidget. “What did you spill?”

                    “….ooth-sate…”

                    “What?”

                    “God! Toothpaste, alright!” Dean blushes and folds his arms.

                    “You took off your shirt because you spilled _toothpaste_ on yourself? How much?”

                    Dean pauses before answering in a small voice, “The whole thing.”

                    Castiel gapes. Thinking about it now, Dean did seem to smell a little more minty than usual when Cas was pressed up to him during their spontaneous dance session. “How did you manage to spill a whole tube of toothpaste on yourself?”

                    “It was an accident! I just- the thing-“ Dean huffs, “It could have been worse.”

                    A moment of silence prolongs Dean’s embarrassing admission before Castiel begins to laugh again, holding his sides and wincing at the amount of pain it’s giving him as he tries to regain control of his spasming diaphragm.

                    “Wha- Dean! “ Castiel continues to stutter.

                    Dean’s blush starts to fade and is replaced by a toothy smirk as he decides to take advantage of the situation. “I’m lucky to be alive, Cas. You should see the other guy.”

                    Castiel wracks under the weight of another giggling fit, managing to somehow pant out, “I bet! You must have choked the life outta him!”

                    “May the fucker rest in peace.”

                    They both fall victim to a severe case of the giggles after that, their laughter resounding of the walls throughout the entirety of their homey little apartment.  It takes a while for them to calm down, each time they make eye contact it starts up another round of ab workouts. Once they finally manage to keep a straight face for longer than three seconds, Dean steps closer into Cas’s space again.

                    “So, I guess I have a little extra time before I have to go in to work today. How would you like to fill it?”

                    Cas purses his lips as he weighs his options, “Well, it’d be a shame to make you rush to take another shower since you already smell so nice.” Dean drops his eyelids halfway and presses his lips into a line at the teasing, Castiel only chuckles. “But,” he continues leaning in until there’s barely any space between their noses, “There’s still other things we could do.”

                    Dean takes the hint and closes the space between them, kissing Castiel with as much vigor as he had put into the dance break earlier. They continue their little make-out session in the kitchen for a while longer, until the beeping coming from the laundry closet signals that Dean’s shirt has finished washing in the quick cycle.

                    Cas is the one to push Dean away as he makes his boyfriend aware of the high-pitched shrieking. “Dean. Sto-mmn! Stop for a minute. Mmmmm…Dean, your shirt.”

                    Dean grumbles something against Cas’s cheek before pulling back enough to look him in the eyes. “Just a few more minutes?” He pleads.

                    Cas sighs, “Dean, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Go get your shirt, put it in the dryer, and meet me back here. And then…” Cas lowers his voice as he leans in, whispering the last bit into his ear.

                    “I’ll be right back!” Dean calls as he quickly darts off in the direction of the beeping. Cas snickers as he listens to the heavy bootsteps clatter down the hall. Remembering his purpose by the sink, he finishes washing the last few dishes, places them on the drying rack, and walks over to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair and waiting patiently for Dean to return.


End file.
